


The Good Times

by PoutyRafeVane1975



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: AC4 Black Flag, Blow Jobs, Charles Vane smut, F/M, Female Reader, NSFW, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex, alcohol use, charles vane x reader - Freeform, cursing, x Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-11 23:33:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15982844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoutyRafeVane1975/pseuds/PoutyRafeVane1975
Summary: Charles Vane makes a claim to you while at The Old Avery. You find it hard to believe. With Vane being Vane, you decide to make it a challenge to break him.





	1. Vane's Opposition

You and Captain Charles Vane sat across from one another at The Old Avery in Nassau, sharing a bottle of rum and downing it at a good pace.

Scoffing, you looked up at him from your drink at his previous remark. "I don't believe that for one second, man. Not one!" However, it made you laugh.

He laughed in return. "And why not?"

You almost wanted to spit out your drink. He couldn't be serious?

"It's just hard for me to believe is all. I'm not saying it ain't true. Do ya not enjoy it or somethin'?" 

He shrugged and took a swig of his drink, thinking your last remark ridiculous. 

As he set the tankard down, he spoke. "I fuckin' love it, but I'm tellin' ya. I've never moaned during sex. Never. Not once."

You threw your hands up in defeat. There wasn't any winning with him, especially not since he was telling the truth.

You could always tell when Vane was lying, which was close to never. In fact, you couldn't think of a time where he did lie. There's no need to lie about such a silly thing as not moaning during sex, right? Of course not. If it were anyone else, they would be embarrassed, they wouldn't say such a truth in the first place. Either way, this didn't stop you from wanting to challenge the man. He was a bit off- crazy, as is, and seemed to enjoy challenges, almost as if he got off from them at times. Maybe this will do the same.

"I've got an idea," you said, taking a shallow breath before another sip of rum hit your tongue. Vane watched you, almost intently, every time you took a drink.

Your tankard set down, nearly empty, you told him in a low voice, "I bet that I can make ya moan."

You knew that the look in your eyes were devilish. That's what you were going for.

He looked at you in shock for a second, then shook his head with a laugh.

"Darlin', I don't mean no offense to ya, but I don't think that I'm your type."

"Hm," you finished off your rum. "Sounds to me that you know I could do it."

He shook his head again, this time crossing his arms along with the action. He didn't say a word, only giving you a straight face look. Well, the straightest face he could manage. There was a tiny smirk upon his lips and a certain twinkle in his eyes that you couldn't miss.

Your hand began to reach for the bottle to pour another glass, but Vane had his hand on it, holding it down. The entire look of him changed dramatically. He was serious now.

"When would you want to do this?"

If you were honest, you weren't expecting that. You didn't know where to go from there. Sure, you wanted to have sex with Vane, but you didn't plan on it happening that night. Maybe a little flirting and teasing, but you weren't expecting him to be so quick in accepting your offer.

But before you could show any hint of surprise or think twice about making a choice, you answered.

"Tonight." You were hoping that your expression held seriously and didn't betray you.

May be, since his deadpan face turned to a borderline toothy, cocky grin.

"Of course," he spoke, taking the bottle gently from your loose grip and drinking directly from it.

"Of course."? What does he mean by that?

You wanted to snatch the bottle from his hand and scold him for doing so, but it wouldn't do you any good since you would possibly be kissing him sooner or later.

You hoped sooner rather than later.

"I still think that I'm not your type." He sat the bottle back on the table.

"How do you want me to answer that?"

"Truthfully."

You pondered for a bit, longer than you had wanted to, but this seemed like a question that needed some pondering. Vane didn't seem to mind that you were searching for an answer.

"To be blunt, you ain't anybody's type, mate. You're harsh- an asshole, if you will. Brutal at times. Fucking loud. You don't seem to think half a time 'bout shit ya do."

He sat in his chair and listened. The more you spoke, his arms slowly crossed - intrigued, but also mildly offended, yet oddly thankful.

He huffed.

"It scares me how well ya know me."

He looked down to his lap for a second. There was silence before he looked back to you. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't find the words. Instead, you spoke.

"But, oddly enough, you are my type. We get along well."

He scoffed, "All we ever do with each other is drink and sail."

You smiled heavily, slightly hurt by the first half of his words.

"We don't drink when we sail, though. Least, not all the time. Only when it's eatin' time or late... really late, and there ain't nothing better to do." You paused to think.

"Other than that, we simply sail together and talk. Sometimes we don't talk, an' that's okay too." 

His eyes wandered back to yours, and in them, they offered apology for his harsh words.

You grabbed the bottle and took a large swig from it, larger than you had planned, causing some to spill from the corner of your mouth and onto your neck as well. You swallowed the alcohol painfully and stood from your chair. Vane made it over to you before you could even blink, his tongue on your neck licking at the rum, but more so leaving kisses.

His hands ghosted over your blouse and corset. You noticed that his hands were shaking, unlike him. Maybe from the alcohol? Unlikely. He can hold his liquor. Ah, from what he was doing to you. That was a probable cause. You'd never seen him shake, not even when he's been angry.

The answer was in his voice when he asked, "So we gonna do this or not?" It almost came out like one word. Almost. He left enough of a pause in between words for you to make out what he was saying.

"We can once you stop and save it for when we get back to my house."

Much to your surprise, he stopped immediately. He pulled away and looked at you with a smile.

"Let's go then." He motioned toward the door of the Tavern and you left, Vane following.

Your house wasn't too far of a walk, only up the dirt road a ways and then a couple of turns and there it was.

You two walked close to one another. Not terribly close, but just close enough to where his hand would brush against yours, or vice versa, every once in a while. No words were exchanged on the walk.

After locking the door and lighting some candles for light, you settled in a bit- removing your boots and corset, now only in your knee length skirt and blouse.

Vane had removed his long coat and hung it up on a coat hook near the entrance, also removing his shoes.

The energy seemed tense and nervous suddenly. You felt it, alright, but Vane was showing it.

"What, you suddenly nervous because we're not in a public place?"

You knew that he had a thing for public sex. This irked him, only for a second, but retorted with, "What, you suddenly don't want to be a whore since we can't be seen?"

Your mouth dropped in a shocked smile at his response, still appreciating his sense of humor and ability to give you your own sass.

"Fuck you!"

He threw his arms out to his sides, "I'm waiting."

He made his way toward you and embraced you, picking up where he left off in the Tavern. His tongue worked wonderful sensations on your neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses, and his beard leaving a beautiful scratching burn sensation that you wanted to feel elsewhere.

He knew that he was working you up. He knew that you were almost ready.

He stopped.

Your grip on his toned arms loosened and fell back to your sides.

You suddenly remembered that this was your idea, you were in control.

Straightening yourself out, you pointed to your bed and commanded him.

"Lay on the bed."

He cocked a brow at you as if to say "who the Hell do you think you are?" But the smirk that pulled at his lips told you that he liked hearing it.

Vane obeyed you, but he did more than that. When you turned around, after smiling to yourself in a small victory, his shirt was gone and on the floor beside your bed. In the dim light, both from the candles and the moon outside, you noticed the bulge in his pants.

You walked over to him and, still fully clothed, straddled his lap. Your thin panties, which were only lace, rubbed against the thin fabric of his pants. It created a friction for both you and him when you began to grind against him.

His hands lazily rested on your hips.

"You're going to have to do better than that, darlin'."

You stopped. "And what the Hell makes you think that this is all I'm going to do, Charles?" You teased.

He didn't have an answer.

You smiled at this and continued.

His hands began to roam your body, up and down your curves, and his eyes followed.

Your hands slowly began to remove your blouse. One string loosened after another, slowly, slowly working down to expose your breasts. Slowly. Too slow for Charles. But still, he waited patiently, his hands still roaming your body, now on your skin, as you lifted the fabric above your head. Your bare breasts fully exposed to him for the first time. He took you in, then met his eyes with yours, smiling devilishly the entire time.

His hands changed position, from your hips to your legs, and crept up your skirt. You loosened the ties on that as well and stood momentarily to remove it, letting it fall to the floor, before stepping out of it and back onto Vane's lap.

Once again he took in the beautiful sight of your body and his hands savored each touch they got of you. You continued to grind on him, making sure to put just the right amount of pressure on his cock to make him want more.

His hands squeezed at your thighs and his eyes closed briefly. You took this opportunity to switch things up. The sudden loss of friction where he wanted it the most made him shoot you dagger eyes, but that died down quickly when he noticed you were moving downward.

He propped his head up on his hands as if he were enjoying the view of the sunset on the beach. He bit his bottom lip as you removed his pants and tossed them aside, forgotten on the floor in the darkness.

You delicately licked at the tip of his cock and you made sure to maintain eye contact with him with everything you did. You sucked the tip between your soft lips into your mouth, causing Vane to shut his eyes and bite his lip harder, his hips thrusting up slightly. You pulled back to tell him, "You're not allowed to bite your lip." He glared at you with those words, knowing that you weren't going to let him off easy. You were going to break him. You would make him moan. But still, he obeyed and let his lip free.

You began to suck the tip again, this time stroking the rest of his length. You worked your way further down, the tip hitting the back of your throat before you could fit all of him in your mouth. But you wanted him to be entirely in your mouth.

Taking a deep breath through your nose and preparing for your gag reflex to react, you deep throated him before you could stop yourself from doing it. This caused Charles to thrust his hips up, though a slight movement, but it was enough for you to gag around his dick. You heard something come from him, but it wasn't a moan.

You pulled up slowly, letting his dick slide out of your mouth in a pleasuring way.

He asked, though a bit breathless, "Are you okay, Girl?"

"I am." You reassured him.

Once more, you straddled his lap and your soaking entrance was lined up with his throbbing cock. You made quick work of removing your panties while still on his lap. Vane reached his hand down and began to rub slow circles around your clit. You immediately moaned out at the pleasure. He picked up the pace all while keeping a fair amount of pressure on it- not too little, not too much. Your hips began to buck as if you were riding him, but you weren't. He realized this and couldn't help but smile. He was making you feel this way, all without actually being inside of you.

Fuck, wait, no. You're in charge, here!

Before he could register why you had pushed his hand away and pinned it down, your face now hovering above his, you shoved yourself onto him in one fluid motion. The sensation of him being inside of you, all the way, was almost too much. It was an intense amount of pleasure already, more than you had felt in a while, if not, then your entire life. Your grip on his pinned wrist tightened as you moaned, cursed, and called his name. You couldn't bring yourself to move for a few seconds until you composed yourself.

Vane, however, forced himself to hold something back, only a shuddering breath making it past his lips.

Your eyes shot open and up to his.

"Not a moan." he said.

You forced out a giggle as you began to bounce, agonizingly slow, on him.

"I know," you spoke. "You'll get there though."

He laughed and nodded his head, "Try me." He was definitely up for this challenge.

You weren't too sure how to go about your pace or force, whether it was going to be rough, slow, fast, passionate. You just weren't sure. But in all honesty, you didn't care, and it didn't matter. Both you and Vane had wanted this moment for so long. It just took some tension, tons of it, to build up. It wasn't the alcohol speaking back at the Tavern either, you knew that for a fact. The two of you had shared a bottle of rum at The Old Avery at least three times a week, definitely more often while you sailed and there was nothing to do at night while anchored, other than tell stories and tales 'round a card table or a fire on a beach, maybe even under the stars, just the two of you or with the crew. Most of the time, though, it was simply you and Charles. You enjoyed those moments the most, the simplicity of one as company. Your Captain. Your favorite pirate. Your closest friend. Your possible lover. Your challenger.

Charles noticed your eyes hadn't opened for a few minutes. "Y/N. Y/N, are you a'right?"

The suddenness and harshness of his deep voice nearly startled you from your daydream. You were still moving on his lap, ever slightly, and his grip on your thighs was still taut, his fingertips beginning to dig in to your skin.

"Aye. I'm fine."

"You were thinkin' about something."

Yeah, you were. Why was he mentioning it?

You nodded and picked up the pace, only by a bit.

He asked, in a hushed voice, "What was it?" A pause. "...If you don't mind me askin'..."

Your lips nervously curved into a smile, hesitant to tell him what you had been thinking about.

"Us. I was thinking 'bout us."

"Oh? And what about... us?" His voice had become awkwardly shy for him.

You picked up the pace once more, again only bit a little.

"How much time we spend together. All the shite we tell each other... and call each other." You laughed at the thought. You're rather fond of his joking name calling with you. "The tales we speak about late a' night."

You blinked slowly, opening your eyes and glaring into his, shining under the moondlight coming through the window next to your bed.

"Do ye remember the tale you told me about being on the island?"

He chuckled. "That could be anything, m'love." His hands gripped harder on your legs. "Which island... Providencia? Which story?"

"The Providencia Monster," you said and widened your eyes for a spooky effect.

"Ah!" he cried out, somewhat in remembrance, mostly in pleasure due to your sudden fast pace.

"Y-yeah. Of course I remember that."

He thrust up to meet your hips, you moaning out his name.

Your moan brought him back to Earth in a way. His mind was lost in the pleasure and feeling of being this close to you. It made him feel like he was coming down from a high, while still being high.

"That's what I like to hear."

What a shit. Of course he liked to hear his women moan. But how many, you wondered, actually moaned out of pleasure and not just to stroke his ego? Not many, you assumed. He wasn't anyone's type. Not anyone's but yours. Maybe that's what caused the connection. Not a connection, but the connection.

"We would stay up for hours on end, sometimes all night. Tellin' one another silly and sometimes shitty tales. I liked them all, especially the ones 'ere we made 'em up as we went along and let the other come up with the next piece."

You and Charles shared a synchronized laugh.

Your hands moved from resting on top of his to his chest, resting there.

He had a sharp inhale of breath, much to your surprise.

Had no one touched him the way you were now? He was irresistable to you.

You continued to ride him, bouncing on his cock and giving him all that you could. His grip would tighten and loosen in waves, but no moans came out of him yet. There were some under breath curses and odd strangled noises, but no moans.

Dammit.

You got rough with your ministrations, and this made it difficult for Vane to hold back a certain sound. The way your cunt took his entire length just right got to him.

He bit his lips and shut his eyes in an almost violent fashion, as if not seeing you would make him hold back the noise.

Too bad though, because he still had the feeling of you- wrapped around him and under his hands.

It was a borderline moan, more so a grunt than anything else. But you took this as a sign that you were making progress.

Your moans still filled the room along with the sound of skin against skin.

Wait...

"Charles?" You asked, your voice filled to the brim with concern.

"Hm-m?" Hardly a word, but still strangled. His eyes were still closed.

"How often are you on top?"

"I'm busy any other time. But here? I'm a lazy fuck."

Ah, that's how it was. He let the woman do the work. Understandable, but he's lazy. He admitted it.

You hopped off of his lap and motioned to switch positions with him. It wasn't hard for him to listen to you at all, which was unlike his personality. You assumed though, with you, him being your type, he would do anything.

"Fuck m-"

Well, you were going to tell him to fuck you like he's never fucked a woman before, but he slid himself into you before you could get more than a word out.

Once more, your moans and calls of his name filled the room. God, you hoped that the neighbors couldn't hear you. Then again, you hoped that the neighbors would hear Charles. It was nothing new to hear women crying out from being fucked in the middle of the night. But to hear a man doing it was very, very rare.

He buried himself to the hilt, also burying his face in your neck, his lips finding your sensitive spots.

He started slow, just the way you did with him, but picked up the pace quicker than you did. Your hands clutched onto him and your nails were sure to leave dig and scratch marks. Something Vane was used to, you were sure of it.

"Harder, Charles!" That came out as more of a beg than you had initially planned, but he must have enjoyed the sound of you so desperate, almost pathetic, to be fucked with his cock in such a way.

He laughed, his breath hot on your neck, and moved to your ear, whispering, "As the Girl wishes."

And he did give it to you harder. Slow, but most definitely hard. It was everything you had imagined.

You moaned out loudly and wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer and deeper.

This sensation, of him being somehow deeper than before inside of you, pulled something beautiful from him. It was as if his body had been working it up to this moment, to let it out in such a wonderful way, like the drunken band at the Tavern playing one's favorite song, as the one person drunkenly enjoyed it. It was like the best thing you ever heard.

A moan. A deep and long, whore like moan. It came from the man you had bonded to and connected with so well for the past however-the-hell-long you've known him, however-the-fuck long you've been on Nassau.

"Fuck!" he called out. You know he cursed because he had lost his cool, you broke him. But hidden behind it was the ecstasy you caused him, and he could no longer hide that.

His head fell and rested in the space between your shoulder and neck. You were always fond of your lovers, or whoever you were screwing, to rest their head in that crook. But when Charles did it, it sparked something inside of you that felt somewhat reminiscent of love, of affection. It was absolutely precious seeing Vane so vulnerable and broken in the best of ways.

His pace didn't faulter at any point. As a matter of fact, it got stronger and more steady. You thought for a split second if he had faked it or planned it, but your mind flashed back to his curse. "Fuck!" It was genuine. He wouldn't fake something like that even if he could or wanted to. He didn't lie. You didn't see a point in lying during sex anyway, that's when one is most exposed.

Continuing thrusting into you, pulling all the way out, and diving back in, you both moaned in harmony. His deep voice was louder than yours, yours being whimpers and purrs at this point, his curses, grunts, and, ah yes, the moans, all growing to something nearly magical.

He brought his lips to yours and the moaning hum of his pleasure vibrated on your lips. Your tongue met his, only for you to feel like you were drowning in his gorgeous sounds.

His hips snapped to yours, rather more rough than the previous times, and perhaps the last rough thrust. He wanted to tell you that he was close, but he didn't know how to use his words at that moment. His vocals chords could only produce desperate noises of pure pleasure.

His breathing became heavier and his lips went back to your neck. His grunts and calls of your name became louder, but somehow more breathy.

You had your fair share of orgasms that night, but this last one was the most intense.

Your walls squeezed him tightly and held onto him. He yelled out, giving you one final thrust, and finished inside of you. You moaned at the feeling, both from his hot seed spilling into you, and from your orgasms being perfectly timed.

He didn't pull out right away, no. He kept planting kisses to your neck, then again your lips collided. He pulled out when you were both good and ready to let it be officially over, the first and last time this would happen with one another.

He laid down next to you, the two of you breathing in what felt like cool air due to how much you were sweating.

You looked over to Charles. He had his eyes closed and his hands rested between his chest and stomach. He panted through a smile. You smiled, but let out a sigh, your smile dying down.

He picked up on your sigh and opened his eyes to look to you.

He knew what was on your mind, though your head rested on the pillow and you looked at the dark ceiling.

"That ain't the last time you're gonna break me, Girl."


	2. The Providencia Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going back in time a bit, Charles Vane is telling you about his time being stranded on Isla Providencia with Edward Kenway. You're completely intrigued in his story, but it all seems made up. A monster on an island? No way in Hell. It's a myth... right? At the end, however, the monster turns out to be all too common.

It was six months after Edward and Charles were rescued by Kenway's crew from Isla Providencia. Edward seemed fine and back to his normal self rather quick, but Vane didn't seem all quite there. He used to speak to you every time he saw you. The two of you always shared a bottle of rum with each other at The Old Avery a few nights a week. He always invited you on his ventures out to sea. But he didn't in that span of six months. He talked to you, but he was distant and short, as if he didn't want to talk to you. It wasn't just you, though. He didn't talk to anyone. He brushed others off more than he did with you. 

It wasn't until you finally got the balls and had enough of his behavior. You didn't expect him to be completely there- he's a bit nuts anyway. But this? This was no excuse.

You asked Edward, almost harassed him, what the Hell was wrong with Charles? Edward never had an answer. You called bullshit on that many times, even yelling at him, telling him that he was lying. 

"I swear on my life, Y/N! I have no idea what's wrong with 'im! He was much worse when we were stranded." 

"Bull-fuckin'-shit!" 

He stared at you, anger filling his eyes, for what felt like a lifetime. 

He took a step toward you, towering over your small stature. Anger still filled his eyes with a hint of sympathy. He knew of your feelings toward Charles- the mutual feelings. He looked down at you, dead in the eyes. 

"If I knew what was wrong, I would tell you... You'd be the first person I'd tell. Fuck you for thinkin' otherwise." He turned around and walked away. 

He spat the last half of those words out full of rage. Understandably so, but you didn't realize that he was right until that evening. 

You wandered to the Tavern to have a drink to clear your mind, or maybe just keep it occupied. 

Noticing Edward sitting at the far end of the bar in the back, by himself, you walked over to him. You didn't sit. You took in the sight of him for a second- he stared down at his tankard, which appeared to have fresh drink in it.

"Edward," you said softly.

His posture straightened as he turned his head up and to you. His eyes were soft and tired looking. His entire face looked exhausted.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I... I didn't know. I know that you wouldn't lie to me, I know you'd tell me... I just... I didn't know how to accept that you don't know. I'm sorry..." 

Your voice was light and your throat had that disgusting about-to-cry ache in it. 

"I accept your apology." 

He took a drink. A long one.

"I wish that I knew as well. Have you tried asking him?"

You shook your head, "Have you?"

He shook his head in return, then took another long drink. 

"Maybe you should," he said without looking up from his glass.

He felt your eyes bore into him in question. 

"He'll listen to you."

You huffed a rather loud laugh at his suggestion.

"Ridiculous." 

"Suit yerself," he said, another gulp from his glass gone. 

Weeks passed, and that's when you decided to talk to Charles. You were unable to muster up the courage to do so the night you apologized to Edward, you were far too upset.

You strutted into The Old Avery in your favorite outfit, which also caught many wandering eyes, but more so Vane's. It always caught his attention, even in the past six months of him avoiding you most of the time. 

He was sitting in the back corner at a table by himself. Strewn about at other tables were more chairs than usual. You figured that Vane had done that to deter others from sitting with him. 

You walked to where he was seated, but grabbed a chair and confidently swung it around and into a spot next to him. 

He looked up from his tankard, which was empty, as was the bottle of rum. Just one bottle. He polished it off on his own, which made your stomach sink. That was your thing- polishing off a bottle of rum together as the night went on and on. Was something actually wrong, or was he legitimately trying to rid himself of your friendship? Or worse, was he becoming an alcoholic? He liked his drink, of course, what Pirate doesn't? But you remembered, from many nights of talking and by him simply venting, he'd tell you about his own idiot Father and how he was a drunkard. "Drowned in a whiskey bottle." You didn't that it literally, you knew what he meant- alcoholism killed him. But then again, it might have been literally due to how awful alcoholism is. 

In his eyes, it looked like he was going to spit some nasty words your way. Maybe asking you what the fuck you're doing here, or telling you to fuck off. You weren't sure. And, in all honesty, you almost did want to fuck off. You stomach was an endless pit of despair. 

"How've you been, love?" 

That's shocking. He's asking how you are? 

You nodded, both in response to his question and to shake yourself of the bitter feelings you were having. 

"I've been alright, but I could be better." You grabbed the rum bottle, forgetting that it's empty, and looked down the neck. Not even a drop left. You set it down in its spot and Charles chuckled at your action. "Hush, you." You looked to him. "What about you, how are you?"

He turned his attention from your eyes to his tankard and looked down to it, as if it were a well full of water that shined dimly in a light source and twinkled, mesmerizing him. He didn't answer.

He bit his lip and knew that he was about to say something rather bitter to you, but he wasn't going to mean it personally. Not personally towards you, but definitely towards himself. He managed to use the most calm tone he had.

"Why are you here?" it was difficult for him to get those words out, he choked on them in a way because he was choking back tears. You noticed the shine on his eyes. Tears. Tears from Vane. Not yet falling, but they were there.

The sight alone broke your heart, but you knew that you had to power through your emotions and feeling to not ask, because you had to ask. 

"Charles... what happened on Isla Providencia?" 

He shook his head in disbelief. Not in a fashion that he couldn't believe you had the nerve to ask, but in a way that made him ask himself what did happen. He laughed, only briefly, and looked over to you. 

His face went from the smile he had, to deadpan, his eyes distant as if he were seeing things that weren't there. 

"A monster."

"Wh-what?"

"A monster lived there," with that answer, he looked away from the distance, his mind slightly returning to him, and he looked back down into his tankard. 

That was the end of the conversation, you knew it was. You didn't say anything, you simply got up and- Edward's at the bar again. 

You sat down next to him and wasted no time in asking him about what Charles had told you. 

"Was there a monster on Isla Providencia?"

The question made Edward spit his drink out. He wiped the back of his hand on his mouth to rid himself of the rum droplets. 

"What the Hell?" he looked at you, confused as Hell. "Did I hear you correctly? Did you just ask me if there's a monster on Isla Providencia?"

"That I did. Was there, Edward?" 

"No? Why...?"

"I asked Charles just a minute ago what happened on the island. All he told me was that there were a monster." 

Kenway laughed at this like it was a joke before taking his usual large gulp of drink. 

You shook your head and rolled your eyes, knowing that this conversation was done with as well. 

You didn't sleep well that night. When you did sleep, you had odd dreams and nightmares of creepy beings living on Nassau. When you awoke in the morning, you were in a puddle of sweat and you were panting. Another nightmare. Truth be told, you could have slept all day, but you wanted to avoid further nightmares. Even the odd dreams gave you the shivers when you thought of them.

You debated drinking the day away, but that would be a poor waste of coin and in no way would make you feel better. You would end up with a hangover tomorrow anyway. Instead, you walked to the beach to listen to the waves and birds and watch ships go by. 

Oddly enough when you were wandering toward the spot you wanted to sit, you spotted Charles. Obviously he had the same idea as you, but maybe not the same motives. 

He heard the crunch of sand and rocks under boots coming his way and looked over his shoulder. When he saw that it was you, his face lit up. 

You stood next to him.

"Mind if I sit?" 

"Not at all, darlin'. Take a seat," he patted the ground next to him and scoot over, as if he had to make room for you on a beach. You silently giggled at his gestures. He was adorable when he wanted to be or when he wasn't trying. This was one of those times. 

When you sat, you noticed how close you actually were to him, but you didn't bother moving to create distance. In fact, you liked being this close to him, and he liked it as well. 

He turned his attention to you. "I'm sorry about last night," he paused. "And for the past six months. I ain't going to make any excuses or even try, there's no point. Truth be told, love, I've got no reason as to why I been ignorin' everyone, you especially," another pause. "You're my favorite person and the only one I can stand to be around for extended periods of time." 

He let the silence fall and take over for a few minutes as he gathered his thoughts. He didn't expect you to have a reply yet, you didn't have one anyway, so the silence didn't bother either of you. 

"However, I do know why I haven't been as connected to anyone in the past months. That's the answer to your question last night, the answer to what the monster was. I wanted to tell ya last night but... I don't know... I couldn't think that night. I... I haven't been able to think well since I got back," he took a deep breath in. "I haven't been sleepin' well. I feel like I ain't sleeping at all even in the deepest of sleeps. I don't know what's wrong, but I know... I know." Another deep breath, his voice was now filled with regret. "...I been wantin' to drink like my Father did. Been wanting to do terrible things t... to myself."

He shifted his gaze from the sea to you, and you met his gaze. 

His voice was low, almost a whisper now, "And you know how much I liked hurtin' others who pissed me off." He held resentfulness behind his voice, sounding like it was for himself. He wanted to make it to come out as a joke, but even the smile on his face faltered and showed the truth- he was telling the truth, terribly hidden as a joke. 

"I'm sorry, Charles," you stifled your cry that was building in the back of your throat. You didn't want to believe that a man like Charles Vane was experiencing such shitty thoughts. 

"If I had known..." you said, looking to him and gently taking his hand, and he returned the caress. "I would have asked sooner." 

He nodded, "Maybe that's why I hadn't talked to anyone much... because I wanted someone to ask me." 

"You know that I'm always here, Charles." 

"I know that now. I knew that before. But for six months, there wasn't anything. There still doesn't feel like there's much, but it's more at ease than it has been. You don't need to apologize. None of it is your fault." 

The grip on each other's hands was still present, your hands laying in the sand, both of you taking in the view of the ocean. 

"But the monster. Oh, darlin', that fuckin' thing. That fucker. It's gone now. I still suffer." 

His words confused you, but you were all ears. 

You leaned your head on his shoulder to rest there, "I'm listening, Charles." 

It was as if you could feel him smile. His lips gently kissed the top of your head, but only for a second. His eyes looked back to the blue waters, but he spoke, telling you the tale of The Monster of Providencia.

"First, let me tell you how this fucker looked. It was small, I'd say like a cat. It was just a shadow though, a simple fuckin' shadow that scared the piss outta me. It was the darkest black thing I'd ever seen. Fuck, it's weird sayin' this shit out loud," he laughed. "It was like the darkest storm cloud you'd seen but living on the ground, slithering, following, creeping. It always followed me anywhere I went. I started seein' it 'round a month and a half in of being stranded. I found it odd at first, thinking it was a panther, til I got a closer look at it, sort of. I still thought that it was an odd animal that I never seen before. Then it started showing up more and more, and I knew that it wasn't an animal. It was... something else. It wasn't of this world. Least, it didn't seem like it was in the beginning. Not for a while, darlin'. Took me a while on that blasted island to see what it actually was." 

He paused and took a few deep breaths, brushing his hair back with his free hand.

"I thought of askin' Kenway if he'd seen it too, but way down I knew that it were only me seeing this thing, that I were the only it were bothering. I'd stay up all night to try 'nd think of ways to follow it. After a good month er so of thinking that shite through, I tried following it." 

He sighed out heavily. 

"I couldn't fucking find it! Can you believe that? I been seeing that shit for a while at that time, and I couldn't fucking find it! What the Hell, right? But I remember being atop a waterfall. I was trying to get a better view of what lay ahead, but it was hard to see, the treetops were in the way, couldn't see much. That's when I felt- something behind me."

He spit that last sentence out quick, like it left a sour taste in his mouth. 

"I turned my head around and saw it. It finally had form. Darlin'... it fuckin' had form. Poorly, but it had a body. It looked like a man of some sort, but it still weren't human... it still weren't from this World. I hated to see it in its cloudy form, but seeing it resembling somethin' human... something alive... I hated even more." 

You shuddered at his description of the creature. Imagining it was disturbing enough, but you imagined being in Vane's position when he witnessed it was both frightening and unimaginable. It seemed impossible for such things to exist, but there are strange things in this world that no one can explain. This was one of those things. 

He hung his head low as if he was stretching his neck, but he continued to speak. 

"That sight alone put the fear of God into me. It made me want to jump. I couldn't bring myself to do it, even though I wanted to more than anything in the moment. But the thing that stopped me, the thing that I wanted even more than death..."

He exhaled slowly, lightly, with shaking breath. His free arm, resting on his knee, was also shaking. His hand and fingers trembled. 

"Was to see you, even if it were to be one last time. And that... that was when I lost it all. I knew I had gone crazy, it were plain to see. But the thought of seeing your face light up again kept flashing in my mind. Always. When I needed it the most. I tried replacing the monster's appearance, either one of 'em, with you. But I couldn't... I couldn't do that to ya." 

His grip on your hand tightened and you felt grains of sand rub against your hands. It was a bit rough, but it wasn't unbearable. Your thumb grazed over his to let him know that you were there, that you're still listening. 

"I knew that I had lost my fuckin' mind, but that didn't stop me from wanting to see you again... be it on this island or in Kingston, or wherever else. One thing I knew for sure was that I had to get off that fucking island. It was bad for me, obviously. But another thing that I knew was that I wasn't going to prison. Not that fucking prison in Kingston, not any other prison, and certainly ain't taking no pardon. No matter how much that thing drove me over the edge... none of that shit was happening." 

You weren't sure what to say, then again Vane didn't seem to want a response. He was okay with you listening, that's why you were here anyway. 

"It showed me things... both asleep and awake. I still don't know which is worse. Hell, I guess both were pretty fuckin' terrible. It killed things in front of me. I know that it weren't actually there killin' shit, but in my mind... it was all too real. It was my reality and Hell. I had accepted my fate that I would be seeing that shit for a while. Killing, torturing... things I feel like will send me to Hell, as if most the shit I did wouldn't already send me there," he laughed lightly for a second. 

"It drove me so insane that I had to get away from Kenway. I couldn't stand to be near him in a way. I didn't hate him, he didn't piss me off. It's just... that thing didn't want me near him."

He finally looked up, back to the ocean. 

"Turns out it didn't want me hardly near anyone for six months. Guess that my thoughts of you didn't work too well when I returned. It's not that I wanted to avoid you. It wouldn't let me." 

You wanted to speak, to tell him that you appreciate him telling all of this to you, that you were still a tad bit confused. Was there actually a monster, an unearthly creature, on the island? Was it all in his head? However, his next words offered answer and relief, because you couldn't muster up the courage to ask.

"It's all confusing now, I know. I'm sorry. Since I've been back, though, I haven't seen that fucker. At least, not everyday. Very rarely do I see it now. But, I also know that it was a projection of myself."

The reveal shocked you, so much so that your head shot up from its position on Vane's shoulder. The movement caused him to look at you. Your expression must have told it all. 

He laughed, "I'm not kidding. I don't know how or why it appeared, why all that shit happened, other than being close to alone on an island for months. It fucked me up. It made me go crazy. I suppose that it's all somethin' to be learned though, right? Listen, I don't want ya to be scared of it or worried about me. Today is the best I've felt in a long time." 

You nodded, still taking in all he has told you. 

"Thank you for listening, Y/N. Again, I'm sorry for everything that I put you through." 

"That's what I'm here for, Charles. You don't need to apologize, it's nothing you had any control over." 

You let go of his hand, just to turn your hold on him into a hug. 

"I'm sorry you had to go through all of that."

He returned the hug without hesitation. When he spoke, you heard his smile, "It's a'right." 

His mouth was close to your ear now, and he whispered, "I need a drink." 

You couldn't agree more with him.


End file.
